


Somebody You Don't Have to Speak to

by Chash



Series: Coming Out of My Cage and I've Been Doing Just Fine [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendship is magic.</p>
<p>(Or: Lexa asks for relationship advice and is upset about it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody You Don't Have to Speak to

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be more about Lexa/Monroe but I accidentally have a lot of fun with Bellamy and Lexa: bros for life. Title from Bob Dylan.

Bellamy's already awake and out of bed when Clarke's phone starts buzzing on the nightstand, so he grabs it before it can get her all the way up and checks the number. She makes an unhappy noise, and he kisses her on the forehead. "It's Lexa, I'll talk to her. I'm checking on the kid anyway."

"Thanks," Clarke says muzzily, already most of the way back to sleep in the warm spot he's left. It never stops feeling awesome to Bellamy, how easily she sleeps these days. 

He picks up the call on his way into Jane's room. "You do realize it's the middle of the night, right? Some of us are old, married people who don't spend all our time at glamorous LA parties."

"I did call Clarke's phone, didn't I?" asks Lexa, sounding unimpressed. "You're registered as _Lout_ in my phone, which is nowhere near to Clarke, alphabetically. I couldn't have made that mistake."

"She's sleeping, I'm on baby duty tonight," he says, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear so he can pick Jane up. She doesn't tend to cry loudly enough to wake them, even with the baby monitor, so Bellamy's gotten in the habit of just getting up a few times a night to check on her.

"Put me on with my godniece," Lexa demands.

"You know godaunt isn't a real thing, right? You're going to be godmother to the next one. But Octavia lives closer and can murder us more easily if we cross her."

"You're stalling."

Bellamy switches the phone to speaker and puts it down on the kitchen counter. "You're on speaker, but she's more interested in food, I'm pretty sure."

Lexa is the only person he's ever met who never devolves into baby talk around his kid. Even _Indra_ coos at Jane, but Lexa talks to her like she's the commander of an army and Jane is her newest recruit. "Hello, godniece. I trust you're doing well, or your mother would have called me in a panic."

Bellamy starts some milk warming up. "She's good, yeah. Still sleeping only like two hours at a time, but we hired another part-timer at the store, so I don't have to be around as much." He lets the baby play with his finger while they wait. "I assume you're not calling at--" he glances at the microwave clock. "Three-twenty in the morning just so you can talk to my kid."

Lexa lets out a long sigh. "It's just as well I got you, you're probably a better person for this conversation. I don't know if I'm--" There's a pause, and then she makes a frustrated noise. "I need _relationship advice_." She says it with all the enthusiasm of saying she is being forced at gunpoint to eat live worms.

"Okay," he says. "Did something happen? Give me a little more to work with. I haven't talked to Monroe in a couple weeks, but last I heard everything was good."

"It is," says Lexa, slow. "As far as I know, there aren't any problems." Bellamy doesn't say anything, which usually works well as a tactic when Lexa is reluctant about something. He starts counting to ten in his head; she cracks on eight. "I think it might be time to advance the relationship, but I don't really know what that means."

Lexa and Monroe have been together for a year and a half, although Bellamy doesn't know exactly where they stand. They're occasionally photographed together, and in the few interviews of hers he's read, she's not shy about referencing her girlfriend in her usual blunt, casual manner. He doesn't know if they live together or have plans to get married or any of that. They both seem happy, and that's all that really matters to him.

"What stage is it at now?"

"Is there an agreed upon relationship scale I should be referencing? Something like the baseball metaphor, but for emotional intimacy."

"Hey, you're the one who wanted my help," he says mildly. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

"I wanted _Clarke's_ help."

"And then you said you thought I'd be better."

She's quiet but finally says, "Clarke was my last relationship. It might be awkward to talk to her about it."

Bellamy gets the bottle and starts feeding Jane. He doesn't know much about the history of Lexa's interpersonal relationships, but he's not surprised she doesn't date much. She's not the easiest person to get close to. "Yeah," he agrees. "So, really--what's going on with you and Monroe? Do you guys live together, or--?"

"No," she admits. "I think that might be the next step. It has been a while. You and Clarke were cohabitating in no time."

"It's not a competition," Bellamy says. "Although if it was, we would be winning."

Lexa lets out a huff. "That's what I'm saying. In the last year and a half, you and Clarke got married, bought a larger house, and had a child. Monroe and I have successfully said we like each other and had a lot of sex and spend most of our free time together, which isn't saying much, given how our schedules usually are." She's quiet again. "I think she's still convinced she's more invested in this relationship than I am, and that concerns me. But I don't tend to be demonstrative like some people are. I assume the people I love are aware I love them because if I didn't, I wouldn't bother with them."

"You tell Clarke you love her. And Jane." 

"Jane is a baby, babies are different. And I never told Clarke I loved her while we were dating. She started saying it and it was easy to get in the habit of saying it back, once we were just friends."

Bellamy shifts the baby so he can run his hand through his hair. "I don't know how Monroe thinks you feel about her, you'd be better off with Clarke for that one. She's more likely to get girl talk. But you do love her, right?"

"Of course. She's--" There's another pause, and then a long exhale of breath. "I hired her for Clarke because I thought she was _cute_. And of course she was qualified and could do the job well," she adds hurriedly. "But that was the first reason. She was cute and I thought she needed--caring. Which is ridiculous, I was leaving the country, I never even saw her. But I always--there was always something about her."

"Does she know that?"

"Not in those exact words." Lexa sighs again. "Can't I just hire someone to come move her things into my condo? It's much nicer than her apartment. She'd be happier."

He snorts. "No. You have to discuss moving with your girlfriend before you do it. I'd go with an emotion-based conversation. Don't just tell her she lives in a shitty neighborhood."

"Well she _does_ ," she mutters. "And my bed is much more comfortable than hers. She's said that herself."

"Lexa, tell her you love her and want her to move in with you."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Well, I got lucky," he grants. "Most of Clarke's stuff was here within two weeks of her moving to town, and she was on a monthly lease, so when Octavia said she was moving in with Lincoln it _was_ simple. We barely had to talk about it."

"We've already established you're winning the relationship contest. You don't have to rub it in."

He laughs. "You're doing fine. Whenever I talk to Monroe about you she still sounds like a lovesick teenager. She _is_ happy, Lexa. And she loves you."

"I was going to move back after Clarke quit," Lexa admits, so soft he almost doesn't hear. "But Clarke mentioned Monroe didn't come to help us move her into your house because she had something going on with a girlfriend, and I was--I had hoped that I could make a move. When I did get back."

"Tell her that too," Bellamy says. "It's still not a competition, but--" He considers. "People like hearing you've been fucked up about them too. Monroe probably doesn't know."

"That's because I try very hard to hide these things," she mutters darkly.

"Stop trying to hide it from your girlfriend. Or hide less." He pauses. "It's just nice to hear people love you sometimes, even if you already know. Does she say it to you?"

"I think she's afraid she'll scare me off," she admits. "So you might be right."

"I'm always right. I'm putting your godniece to bed. Want to say goodnight?"

"Goodnight, Jane. Sleep well."

Bellamy smiles. "Fingers crossed. Give me a sec." He puts the phone down on the dresser and rocks his daughter gently before putting her back in the cradle. " _When your mother sends back all your invitations_ ," he sings softly, " _And your father to your sister he explains, that you're tired of yourself and all of your creations, won't you come see me, Queen Jane?_ "

He's never considered himself a great singer, but Jane doesn't seem to care; nothing helps her get to sleep like his voice, which makes him feel like the absolute coolest person of all time. Besides, it's not like Bob Dylan is so hard to live up to. Half the time he sounds like he's gargling.

Jane goes to sleep fast, which is the one upside of how often she wakes up, and Bellamy grabs the phone and turns it off speaker. "Back," he says, once he's out of the baby's room and the door is closed.

He's expecting some mild teasing about his singing voice--half the reason he left her on speakerphone was to give her the opportunity. She's done a lot of feelings talk, she probably wants to make fun of him to get her balance back. But instead she says, quiet, "I do love you, Bellamy."

Bellamy can't breathe for a second, because he wasn't fishing for that; he _knew_ that, of course he did, but it's still kind of strangely touching, that she's starting this new emotions thing with _him_. He slumps against the wall. "Yeah," he says, and resists the urge to say _I know_ , because it's a big deal, and he doesn't want to downplay it. "I love you too. And Clarke loves you, and your girlfriend loves you. You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm not." She pauses. "Does Clarke know you sound like a dying cat when you sing?"

"How many dying cats do you know?"

"So she doesn't know."

He closes his eyes, smiling; weariness is a constant, and he hears it will be for a few more months yet, but he's kind of used to it. He wonders if this was how Clarke felt when they first met. Probably not quite this happy. "She likes my singing. So does the kid. You're outvoted."

"As usual."

"Feeling better?"

"I wasn't feeling bad," she snaps, defensive. But she softens almost at once. "Did Clarke ever mention Costia?"

He heads downstairs to make himself warm milk, which feels a little creepy, since he just gave his kid pretty much the same thing, except out of his wife, but he wants something hot and non-caffeinated. "Not that I remember."

"I'm not surprised. They never met. Costia was my first girlfriend. She overdosed, died a year before I met Clarke. I've never told Monroe about her. I don't want her to be--I don't know what to say about it."

"What do you want to say?"

"You're infuriating."

"I know." 

He doesn't say anything else, and Lexa caves again. She's so _predictable_. "I want to tell her things about me just so she'll know them," she says. "I don't have a better reason. I just want her to know that it happened."

"That's a good reason," Bellamy assures her. "She wouldn't be dating you if she didn't want to know stuff just to know it."

There's a long pause. "I'm uncomfortable with you in the role of wise mentor. Can you wake up Clarke so she can be unhelpful instead?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm hanging up."

He laughs. "Night, Lexa. Give my love to Monroe. Then your love."

As promised, she hangs up without further comment.

He finishes his milk and checks in on Jane once more; she's asleep with her head on a stuffed duck Lexa and Monroe bought her, so he snaps a picture and texts it to Lexa before heading back to his own bed. Clarke has taken over the whole thing, and he prods her gently to make room.

"Lexa?" she asks, bleary.

"You should call her in the morning, but she's fine."

"Okay," she says, and curls back into him. He sets his alarm to go off in an hour and a half and buries his face in Clarke's hair.

*

Lexa texts _Thank you for your advice_ around four the next day, and then, almost immediately after, _She's moving in and we seem to be engaged_.

Bellamy stares at his phone for a long, confused moment, and then laughs so hard he cries.


End file.
